iWear Makeup
by joryuukage
Summary: Sam, Carly, and Freddie and how they each view makeup.


iWear Makeup

Sam doesn't understand makeup. The blush, foundation, concealer, bronzer, mascara, lipstick, lip liner, lip gloss, eyeliner. But more than any other artificial way to make her "pretty," Sam doesn't understand eye shadow.

The others she understands—at least, a little bit. Because on a good, acne-free day, she won't wear any makeup, but when acne rears its ugly head (literally), or she's had a particularly late night, even she submits to a little bit of concealer. Maybe some mascara, if even that still doesn't make her feel normal.

But eye shadow. Sam just can't understand eye shadow. You put an alarming amount of gunk over top of and around your eye, for an end result that is barely noticeable, if at all. Carly tells her that she has to put more on, but even when Sam tries later at home, with a tri-color palette her sister had forgotten on her last visit, spreading the color almost to her eyebrow, she doesn't understand.

The effect just looks stupid, made doubly so by her clumsy, choppy attempts to make the eye shadow appear smooth. Even as she stares at her eyes in the mirror, willing herself to understand, she knows she never will. Most of the powder is covered up by her open eyes, and the part that does show is so high she doesn't like it.

Sam growls at her reflection in the mirror, frustrated at having wasted half an hour on this. Half an hour where she could have been eating ham.

Sam rubs the powder away with the palm of her hand, before leaving the bathroom in search of her favorite food.

Sam doesn't understand makeup, but she definitely understands ham.

* * *

Freddie doesn't understand why Sam wears makeup. She doesn't wear much (and if she is, he knows that Carly's gotten to her), and she doesn't do it often, but when she does, he doesn't understand why. It's not like Carly, who started wearing makeup in the seventh grade when most girls started to experiment, and since then he's never known a time when her face has been makeup free, save for the rare occasion when he's managed to catch her in the very early hours of the morning. And even then she wears chap stick. Point being, he's used to Carly wearing makeup. It's part of what makes Carly, Carly.

It doesn't make Sam, Sam. In fact, the subtle effect that happens when Sam does wear makeup is so foreign to him, that he never knows how to respond when it's on her face. It's not a _bad_ effect, it's just he doesn't understand why she's wearing it. Sam looks fine without it. Sam looks just as pretty (if not more so, in his opinion) not wearing makeup ash she does with it on.

Freddie doesn't understand why Sam wears makeup.

* * *

Carly doesn't understand Sam not wearing makeup. She doesn't understand any girl not wearing makeup. Makeup is so…essential to her. When she looks in the mirror, she can't help but pick up brush after brush, hiding everything about herself she deems to be imperfect.

It isn't just acne and dark circles, either. Carly has freckles. They're only really there after she's spent time in the sun (a difficult feat in Seattle), but when she examines herself closely in the mirror, like she always does during her morning routine, she sees the bridge of slightly darker skin stretching across her nose, and they disappear beneath her magic wand, too.

After her face is primed, she looks unnaturally pale for someone who is still living, so she adds blush to the apples of her cheeks. But then, she thinks, her eyes look hollow, so she uses the tri-color palette of shadows that promised browner eyes, along with the matching eyeliner and mascara. By the time she's finished this, though, her lips look lonely and forgotten, and so she slicks clear gloss across them, just to make them shiny. She sets it all with powder, and prays it will last throughout the day. She doubts it will, however, and so all her tricks disappear into a small, striped bag, to be put in her book bag and pulled out at the appropriate time, probably during lunch.

The end effect looks largely the same as before she put all this on, only her lashes are slightly longer and above them is a small sea of brown. Most things, however, are largely the same. Her skin had had that rosy tint before the foundation, and in few minutes the gloss on her lips will fade, but she doesn't care. Makeup had become her security blanket, and without it, she didn't feel normal.

Carly doesn't understand Sam not wearing makeup.


End file.
